, 1887-02-01
BONNER IN OLD AGE.
THE MAN WHO WAS ONCE NOTED
FOR QUAINT ADVERTISING

Developing Il Gold Mine by the Use of
Printers ~Ink-Wases Paid TO Contrib
utor--A Keen Critic-In the sancium
and at Home.
Not long ago | saw IA man crossing the
street railway tracks near the Franklin
statue with the gait of an old farmer. He
wore old fashioned broadcloth, with n low
cut waistcoat and n rundown collar with
n black tie. His overcoat pocket was
stuffed with newspapers and magazines.
a heavy bundle nestled under his arm.
Thick arctic shoes covered his feet, for the
weather was wintry. His hair and hat
reminded me of the Int John A. Logan.
Like Logan, he wore his hat on the back
OF his head. The man was well knit, and
his head set quite close to his shoulders.
He had u high forehead, with fully devel-
oped perceptive faculties. The eyes We're
hazel and pleasant in expression, the nose
was clear md well cut, and the face quite
broad and placid. He Hoped along Us
though lost in thought. There was
nothing about him that would attract
have taken him for some preacher in the
Dutch Reformed church on his way to
Aquackenowk.
NEVER s%'PETERED OUT"
He was the man, however, who devel-
oped II gold mine by the use of printer's
ink II quarter of n century ago quicker
than any man in America since hat time.
That mine has never ''petered OUT 1t Is
as good to-day as when first discovered.
He was Robert Bonner. When u boy l
set type in his office. He was even then
as deliberate of motion md as reflective in
mind as he Is to-day. Mr.. Bonner's ad-
vertising method vas not a cloud burst
which attracted momentary attention. 1t
was a steady stream of water pouring from
II clear sky for IN indefinite period. Be
fore six months the stream excited uni
versal interest. People wanted to know
where it came from, and what made it.
They bought his family newspaper to as
certain its source, and Mr.. Bonner quickly
became rich. Keen men, who initiated but
never equaled his quaint Advertising, also
waXed wealthy. Others, who got in later,
tainted by the wayside, for the novelty OF
the advertising display was soon gone.
Mr.. Bonner spends from four to five
hours II day in his sanctum. 1t is an odd
little room. Everything seems to be in
confusion. The chairs are filled with piles
Of old newspapers, and books and maya
zines are scattered in every corner. En-
cravings and photographs, recalling the
triumphs and friendships of past years,
hang on the walls. Bones, models of
hoofs, horseshoes and other oddities sug-
gestive of a love of equine speed are In
the room. The editorial desk is a litter of
letters and newspaper clippings. Horace
Greeley's old Tribune table was never in
u worse condition. Nobody but Mr.. Bon
ner himself, however, touches anything in
the room. II he wants any special article
he fishes among the litter at u given spot
until he finds it. A good sized safe squats
at one end of the room. 1t is filled with
curiositles that have n value peculiarly
delightful to Mr.. Bonner alone. For in
stance, it contains the gold watch that
marked Dexter's first wonderful time.
The independent second hand remains on
the fraction of n second as the catch was
sprung, and has never been thrown back
to the hour since the horse dashed under
the string. Near this watch rests IL see
ond -chronometer, marking the time of
Pocahontas, and n third recalling the I'M
rivaled achievement of the peerless Maud
S. low many other souvenirs of the
glories past the safe hides from public
view Mr.. Bonner alone can tell.
PAID LARGE SALARIES.
The wonderful sums paid to Edward
Everett, Henry Ward Beecher and Fanny
Fern have repeatedly been made public.
These We're by no means the only writer's
~ ~ -"hH ppiAA' lhN ~ k0 III
Oliver Dyer, II stenographer, for years
edited the correspondents column at $50
n week. After n decade of this drudgery
he wrote an article for Packard's Monthly
entitled The Wickedest Man in New
York He awoke the next morning
and oun himself famous. Within a
year Charles A. a was paying him
800 II week for special reports on The
sun. Mr.. Bonner opened his eyes.
Here, Oliver, " he said one afternoon, If
you're worth 800 u week to men outside
The Ledger Office, you're certainly worth
that money to the men inside of 1t. Stick
to your Answers to Correspondents here
after, and draw your 800 n week"
From that day to the present the veteran
has retained his easy berth.
Mr.. Bonner is not only u keen literary
critic, but he is an accurate judge of men.
His knowledge of human nature seems in
tuitive. His judgment is quick and de-
cisive. He knows what he wants and he
pays handsomely for 1t. No man can
coax him to buy what he doesn't want.
He trimmed his sails and laid his news
paper course thirty years ago, and he has
pursued 1t since then without jibing or
making IL tack, His columns are never
ut the service Of his friends, He refuses
to grind even the most infinitessimal of
axes. 10 all such appeals he is adamnnt.
He frequently steels himself against his
own sympathies in n~erving hir.iself to
refuse such requests.
Between 3 and 4 p. M. Mr.. Bonner up
sets his waste paper basket, pulls Oh his
overshoes, descends the stairs and trudges
homeward. He walks over to the Park
place elevated station and rides to Fatty
eighth street. He lives on this street,
within 200 feet of Fifth avenue. The
house is n plain brown stone front, four
stories high, and without any extra trim
mings. 1t is substantially but not gaud-
fly furnished. Bookcases are not Gully
filed, but volumes are piled upon the
parlor tables without regard to effect.
Bonner is n plain, matter of fact home
man. He has no box at the opera and |
never saw him at n theatre. He gives no
SOciul entertainments Ne York Cor